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The Photo Atlas
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It's Always About the Money
The lights flash on a broken TV screen
Shattered glass and a crooked picture frame
The clock stops ticking back and forth
I'm sure it's hard enough to sleep without this
Constant heartbeat
The last time I saw her she was on
She felt the same to me but I was wrong
I'm not trying to sell her anything
I found a place to hide
I wanted to tell her everything
It breaks my fucking heart
I'm not gonna sell her anything
I found a place to hide
I wanted to tell her everything
It breaks my fucking heart
Cross paths in slow motion
Windows down
Long enough for us to meet
And then I was gone
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If it's not obvious by now
She is my mystery
And I can't slow down
I can't slow down
The last time I saw her she was face down
She looked the same to me but I was wrong
I'm not trying to sell her anything
I found a place to hide
I wanted to tell her everything
It breaks my fucking heart
I'm not gonna sell her anything
I found a place to hide
I wanted to tell her everything
It breaks my fucking heart
It's always about the money!
Let's go!
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